


Work from Home

by aratheli



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, Living Together, M/M, just a cute little thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:02:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aratheli/pseuds/aratheli
Summary: Keith comes home after a long--and rather unproductive--day of work to find an unfamiliar song playing throughout his house.





	Work from Home

With his briefcase in one hand and his motorcycle helmet in the other, he has no real choice but to grudgingly throw open the door before he loses all his belongings.  He was expecting a large crashing noise to ring through the hallway,  but the atmosphere was dominated with a different noise.  Something like clicking, no... _ snapping _ , and some...xylophone?  

 

He picked up his helmet rather hurriedly, worried something was wrong, but the music swelled before he could take a step forward.  At the breaking point of the pitch, a shadow slid its way on blue lion slippers from the kitchen to the end of the hallway, stopping perfectly in an exaggerated pose.

 

A woman began to sing.  “ _ I ain’t worried ‘bout nothin’...I ain’t wearin’ na nada… _ ”

 

The figure danced their way to the entryway where Keith stood, completely confused.  

 

“ _ I'm sittin' pretty, impatient, but I know you gotta… _ ”

 

Completely exposed in the hallway’s ceiling light now, Lance smirked at Keith’s reaction, He looked him up and down before reaching over his lover’s shoulder and slamming the door shut on the beat.  “ _ Put in them hours, I'mma make it hotter…” _

 

Keith could hardly latch onto what the woman was talking about as Lance rolled his way across Keith’s chest.  “ _ I'm sending pic after picture, I'mma get you fired…” _

 

That last line caught Keith’s attention.  “What?” he shouted over the music to Lance, who was dancing and singing unrequitedly despite Keith’s sudden consciousness.

 

“ _ I know you're always on the night shift… _ ” Lance mouthed, saddening his facial expression.  “ _ But I can't stand these nights alone… _ ” 

  
Then Keith understood.  His expression softened.

 

Lance spread his arms wide and shook his hips to the rhythm.  “ _ And I don't need no explanation… 'Cause baby, you're the boss at home… _ ”   Lance spun around and winked at Keith’s returned perplexion and whispered “not really”.  Keith shook his head, giggling.

 

The background beats grew again, leading up to the chorus Keith imagined, and Lance bounced around him, lost in the music.  “ _ You don't gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work…” _

 

But before he was too giddy, Keith’s obliviousness took over.  “Yes I do,” he yelled at Lance, who was too caught up in swishing his body left and right. 

 

“ _ But you gotta put in work, work, work, work, work, work, work…” _

 

The lyrics didn’t make sense anymore.  What did Lance want?  “Lance, hey…!”

 

“ _ You don't gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work…”  _

 

“Lance, I’ve had enough of this song!”  He was smiling and he knew it, as Lance stuck his touch out from between his teeth.  He ignored him.

 

“ _ Let my body do the work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work…”  _  Lance was awfully close then, wearing his bedroom smile with his chin raised.  

 

Then there were hands on his ass, something Keith wasn’t really in the mood for, and he all but politely shoved the man off of him.

 

Lance huffed, took his iPhone out of his pocket, and turned the song off.  “Dang it, man, I’m trying to be fun and spontaneous!”  His wild hand gestures and tone of voice told otherwise.  “Didn’t you like the performance?”

 

Keith was laughing.  “Why  _ that _ song?  It’s so old!”

 

“You didn’t answer my question!”   
  


“You didn’t answer mine!”

 

Lance rolled his eyes and wound his arms around Keith’s neck.  “Babe,” he drawled.  “I missed you.”  

 

Keith’s laughter faded and he realised his boyfriend was serious.  “I’m sorry.” He let his own hands trap Lance’s lower abdomen.  “I had all that leftover paperwork to do…”

 

“It’s okay,” Lance whispered, kissing his cheek.  “It’s my fault.”

 

“Ugh,” Keith was reminded of just  _ why _ he had to stay late.  “You insisted we stay in that morning…”

 

Lance nuzzled his face in Keith’s neck.  “It was worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this silly little thing!


End file.
